


Digressions on Chakwas

by Scutter



Series: Digressions [6]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scutter/pseuds/Scutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Chakwas was dreading the next 24 hours."</p><p>A series of ficlets about Chakwas. Thank you to Agin for the prompt (which I paraphrased very slightly).</p><p>Chapter 1 - Chakwas worries about a challenge ahead of her.<br/>Chapter 2 - Chakwas has a few regrets.<br/>Chapter 3 - Chakwas needs to see a doctor. And it's making her more than a little apprehensive.<br/>Chapter 4 - Chakwas waits for her crew to return from battle.<br/>Chapter 5 - Chaos at Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exams

Chakwas was dreading the next 24 hours. At the tender age of 23, she was only two weeks out from the end of her medical training, before heading off into an internship. And the next two weeks were chock full of exams, some written, some practical… but the one this afternoon was the kicker. It was her surgical exam. The subject she had struggled with all semester, despite extra tuition, despite pushing herself through late night study sessions, despite her steadfast desire and determination to become a fully qualified doctor.

Perhaps it was because, in surgery, her patients were all unconscious. She was a people person, delighting in talking to her patients, listening to their concerns, explaining treatment options. Surgery just lacked that one-on-one interaction, and so her enthusiasm for it had waned quickly. 

Perhaps it was the way her lecturer has reduced the human body to a jigsaw puzzle of bits of muscle, bone and connective tissue. To Chakwas, the human body was a miracle of intricacies, a flawless machine capable of self repair, of defending itself from invaders, of damage control, shutting down some systems while others took over in emergency circumstances. It was a wonderful, awesome and terrifyingly complex miracle, not a lump of meat and tubes that one could hack and stitch up at will.

But whatever the problem was, the fact remained that she had less than two hours until her exam started – four hours long, a marathon slog of essay writing, remembering drug interactions, emergency protocols and the tiny details of anatomy, and then a practical exam, a test of the steadiness of her hands as she stitched up a wound, and of how well she could maintain sterility during a delicate operation. 

Tomorrow was her pharmacology exam, and by the time she walked into the hall for that one, all this would be behind her. God willing, she would pass, and go on to begin her new career. 

Or, if the fates were against her, she would be back here next year, re-sitting the exam and hoping to pass the second time around. 

She stared down at the notes on her lap, glanced around at the students littering the hallway around her, all of them with their heads down, desperately trying to cram a few more morsels of information in.

Chakwas closed her eyes and let herself relax for a moment, knowing that she had done her preparation to the best of her ability. Having a clear head would help her more than an extra revision of which blood vessels supplied the kidneys or how many different layers the stomach was composed of. So she closed her eyes and let her mind go blank. And she wondered, in that quiet moment, what her career would look like in twenty years time. The places she would go. The people she would meet. It was going to be a grand adventure, she just knew it…


	2. Regrets

Chakwas was dreading the next 24 hours. She still couldn’t believe what she had done last night. Or, more precisely, what she _and James_ had done. Sleeping with a crew member. With a patient! It was reprehensible. James would have reminded her that Shepard was sleeping with Kaidan, certainly against regulations, even if both of them were spectres. And Gabby and Kenneth regularly broke non-fraternization regs. Garrus and Tali had hooked up, even if the regs didn’t really apply to them, both of them being non-Alliance, but the point had been made.

But she was a _doctor_. And she’d slept with a member of the crew in her care. So, at some point in the next 24 hours, she was inevitably going to see James again, and then she’d have to face up to her mistakes. And of course EDI knew, so she would tell Joker, and then the rest of the crew would hear about it soon after. A lot of them wouldn’t care, she knew, much bigger things on their minds. A few of them might even congratulate her for finally letting her hair down… but what would Shepard say? She respected and admired him so much, and the thought of letting him down was devastating…

Pull yourself together, she scolded herself sharply. Okay, so last night had been a mistake, but life went on. She had to finish her weekly inventory of medical supplies, put in a requisition order for any replacements, make an appointment for Joker’s regular blood tests and reply to Dr. Michel’s query about how to treat turian skin disorders. She didn’t have the time or the patience to be wallowing in regrets and self doubt. 

But counting bottles of dextro-amino antibiotics and tubes of medigel was hardly a demanding task, not nearly enough to keep her mind from wandering, and Chakwas found herself replaying last night’s activities in her mind. The crew had been celebrating the peace agreement between the geth and the quarians, grateful that both armies had joined the war effort, and liquor had been flowing freely. Though she didn’t often join in such celebrations, Chakwas had decided to make an exception this time, and had headed for the port observation lounge. 

James had been showing off, doing handstands against the wall and then turning them into vertical push ups, challenging anyone to out-do him, and Kaidan had had to physically restrain Shepard to keep him from taking up the offer. Chakwas was fairly sure he had also whispered a few heated incentives into the Commander’s ear, because Shepard had turned an interesting shade of pink, and immediately declined James’ offer.

And Chakwas had been feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time, admiring the dedicated soldiers around her, and feeling just a little pensive about her own lack of a personal life. There seemed to be happy couples all around her, and she even thought she saw Traynor getting a kiss from Liara. Well, that was a new development, if it was anything other than casual affection, but she was happy for them. Really.

And then, after a few more drinks, James had sat down beside her and asked her about her life in doctor-training-school – his words, not hers, and by the time she’d finished telling him about the more outrageous things she and her class mates had gotten up to, the lounge had been mostly empty, some of the crew retreating for more *ahem* private celebrations, a few of them simply passing out on the floor. She couldn’t remember what James had said at the time, but whatever it was, it had made a lot of sense. 

Of course, in hindsight, it had clearly been the brandy talking, but none the less, she had invited him up to the medbay. And he’d gotten that adorable, flirtatious look on his face, the one that was half playboy, half puppy, and the next thing she knew, the shades had been firmly closed over the medbay windows, and he had been removing her sweater and introducing her nipples to his mouth.

He’d taken his shirt off not long later, and good god, he was big. He made her feel like a young woman again, beautiful and innocent, with his easy flirting and confident seduction, and she had made no protest at all when he had removed her shoes and pants and laid her out on one of the beds. And then he’d buried his face between her legs and she’d parted her thighs as far as they would go, begging him to never stop…

Later, he had climbed on top of her, his pants open and hanging around his thighs, and she’d wrapped her legs around his waist and held on as he showed her exactly what she’d been missing out on all these years as a single woman.

The door to the medbay opened, and Chakwas concentrated on the latest entry in the inventory, willing the heat from her cheeks and plastering on a calm, professional expression before she turned to face whoever it was. 

Shepard stood by the supply cupboard, restocking his own supply of medigel, and Chakwas was momentarily lost for anything to say.

“Good morning, Commander,” she managed finally, wondering if he had heard already-

“Morning. How’s everything going?”

Maybe he hadn’t, then… “Fine. Just checking the inventory before the next order goes out.”

Shepard nodded and closed the cupboard. Then he glanced over at her, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he knew. It was hard to label exactly what his expression was. It wasn’t gloating. It wasn’t amused. It wasn’t annoyed or disapproving or teasing. But there was something in his face that said he knew… and that he wasn’t going to say anything.

“I should go,” he said, after a moment’s pause, and she nodded, watching his back retreat out of the room.

It was not until four hours later than she finally ran into James. She was coming back from lunch, and somehow, even though she had strayed no further than the mess and the ladies room, she had missed the fact that someone had entered the medbay in her absence. 

“Hey, doc,” James greeted her with a grin. “How’s it going?”

Chakwas was trying to keep a neutral expression on her face, but she must have failed miserably, because James’ grin instantly vanished. “Shit, you regret it, don’t you.”

“I’m the ship’s doctor,” she explained, hoping James would see that it wasn’t _him_ , specifically, it was rather that it had been a member of her crew, a dereliction of her duty as a medical officer that she was regretting. “It was completely inappropriate.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” James said, seeming genuinely contrite. “I honestly thought you were into it. And I didn’t think you’d had that much to drink. If I took advantage of you, then I’m really, really sorry-“

“No! It’s not that,” she interrupted, cringing at his display of remorse. This wasn’t his fault at all. “It’s that _I_ took advantage of _you_. Every person on this ship is my patient, and sleeping with my patients is absolutely, utterly against my moral obligations as a doctor. So _I’m_ sorry, James.”

James thought about that in silence for a moment. Then he frowned. “I gotta say, doc… I’m not feeling terribly taken advantage of, here.”

“That’s not the point-“

“Isn’t it? So I’m not allowed to make my own choices and express my own thoughts because you chose a career in biology?”

“That’s twisting the circumstances,” Chakwas complained. But James just laughed. 

“Okay. You keep telling yourself that, doc. And you’ve made your point. This was a one time thing, and I promise to never mention it again. But if you’re set on giving yourself a guilt trip over this… I’m just saying maybe you don’t need to.”

With a shrug and a wink, he left the room, leaving Chakwas staring at the closed door, and wondering whether she might have been wrong, after all.


	3. Surgery

Chakwas was dreading the next 24 hours. Which was utterly ridiculous, considering her profession. A week ago, she’d had her regular yearly health check, and had discovered that she had a small cyst in her lung. It wasn’t life-threatening, but given her lifestyle, visiting remote and often dangerous worlds, far from medical care aside from what she could administer to herself, the doctor had recommended she have it removed. It was right on the edge of the lung, an easy location to reach via surgery, and she was due to check herself into Huerta Memorial in just a few minutes. 

But the truth – even if she would never admit it to anyone else – was that she was terrified. She had extensive knowledge of the human body, and knew that this was a simple operation, performed via keyhole surgery, the whole thing taking only half an hour. 

But along with everything she knew about how routine this was, about how the success rate was almost 100%, she also knew everything that could go wrong. She could have a reaction to the anaesthetic. She could develop fluid in her lungs from the respirator. She could develop blood clots. The list was endless. She could get an infection from a breach in sterility, aspiration pneumonitis, pleural adhesions… a scrolling list of surgical complications had set up shop in her head, a list she had memorized rigorously during her medical studies, and that she had seen up close and personal with all the operations she had done during the war. Most complications were minor, but two of her patients had ended up dying. Two, over the course of her whole career wasn’t bad odds, statistically speaking, but the risk was always there.

The elevator opened and Chakwas pasted a smile on her face, trying to look relaxed. She strode up to the reception desk and told the receptionist her name and the procedure she was due to have… and then she was given a form to fill in and told to go and wait in room 13b, on the first floor.

13b was a pleasant enough room, pale blue with a comfortable chair for her to sit in, and she fought not to tap her foot and fiddle with the thread on her sleeve… she really should trim that off before it started unraveling the fabric.

And then the door opened, and Chakwas braced herself, ready to meet the doctor who would be taking her life in his hands…

“Chloe!” Chakwas leapt up as Dr. Michel stepped into the room.

“Karin, it’s so good to see you again.” Chakwas saw the clip board in Dr. Michel’s hand, her own name emblazoned across the top of it.

“You’re my surgeon?” she asked in astonishment.

“Yes,” Dr. Michel confirmed. “I saw you on the patient list so I requested your case. It was such a pleasure working with you when you were here, I just couldn’t imagine letting you be treated by anyone else. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

Chakwas smiled, a genuine expression for the first time that day. “That’s absolutely fine with me,” she said with relief. “I couldn’t be in better hands.”


	4. Battle

Chakwas was dreading the next 24 hours. The mission on Tuchanka had just begun, Eve accompanying Shepard, Wrex and Mordin on this reckless and desperate bid to reverse the genophage. She was fully in support of the idea, on principle, of course, but when a reaper was guarding the shroud and husks and marauders were roaming the planet? It was one of the most reckless, dangerous things Shepard had ever done. And given his history - Saren, Ilos, the collectors suicide mission - that was really saying something. 

She’d prepared herself as well as possible, making sure she had plenty of anaesthetic ready in the medbay, surgical kits sterilized, medigel to stop any bleeding, synthetic blood for four different species ready and waiting.

So now all she had to do was wait for them to get back. 

Or wait for news to the effect that they weren’t coming back.

God, she just never got used to this. Treating patients was fine, working at the hospitals, seeing some horrific injuries… but in a hospital or a colony clinic, the injuries were always unexpected, a freak accident, or a military unit she had never seen before, and the wounded were on her table being treated before she had time to think about any of it.

But the waiting? Knowing it was men and woman she knew personally, people she cared about, risking their lives again and again… that was far worse. Knowing that the next person she stitched up, the next life-saving operation might be performed on Shepard, or on Liara, or on Kaidan. These people had come to be more than just friends and colleagues. They were family. 

And they were capable, competent fighters, a close-knit team who watched each others backs and had a frighteningly good track record for completing successful missions, no matter the odds against them.

But diving right under the feet of a reaper in an attempt to save an entire species from extinction? 

Chakwas stood up and went to check her medical supplies again. You could never be too prepared…


	5. Christmas

Chakwas was dreading the next 24 hours. Christmas on the Normandy was complete mayhem. Given the number of non-humans on board, what had once been a traditional religious holiday had devolved into a reckless excuse for a party, but something about this particular celebration made the crew even more out of control than usual.

It started early, James making star-shaped pancakes for breakfast… which resulted in a food fight. No serious injuries, but Joker broke his finger trying to catch a pancake. He should have known better.

Half way through the morning, Tali cracked open the first bottle of alcohol, which everyone else took as the signal to dive in. By lunch time, half the crew were drunk. Thank god they were docked at the Citadel and not trying to navigate FTL jumps…

Soon after lunch, Chakwas discovered that Traynor had convinced EDI to turn off artificial gravity throughout parts of the ship at random intervals, and Cortez was the next casualty, spraining an ankle as the gravity in the cargo bay came on again unexpectedly.

When Chakwas heard that Kaidan and Liara were seeing who could lift the most crew members at once with their biotics, she retreated to the med bay, prepared for a sudden influx of patients…

Shepard was next, a deep cut on his arm after he’d let James practice his knife throwing. With Shepard as the ‘target’ (even if the objective was to miss him. And that was hardly the point.)

Liara was the next, somewhat unexpected casualty, as she was usually one of the more sensible crew members, having fainted after overtaxing her biotics. Kaidan, she heard, had a bleeding nose, but he insisted it didn’t need medical attention.

Javik came in soon after, vomiting after overindulging in mince pies and discovering he was allergic to the pastry. Much to his shame at being taken out of commission by a ‘primitive’s’ party treat.

Garrus arrived with a pulled muscle in his shoulder, after trying to beat James’s record for the most chin-ups. That, thankfully, could be solved with an ice pack and an application of medigel.

It was nearly midnight when Shepard came back again, and by the way he was walking kind of crooked, Chakwas knew immediately what the problem was… and wished she could just go and throw herself out the airlock.

“I take it you’ve just come from your quarters?” she pre-empted his explanation. “And that the Major was with you?”

Much to her dismay, and for all his embarrassment, Shepard was drunk enough to enlighten her with the details. “He got this new… um… toy. And it… kind of… it sort of got stuck…”

“I can imagine,” Chakwas said, feeling her face flush, hoping he wasn’t going to elaborate any more. Tomorrow, she was drinking an entire bottle of brandy. By herself.

“Go behind the screen and take your pants off,” she said, fighting to maintain her sense of professionalism. Shepard did, and she pulled a pair of rubber gloves out of a draw, tugging them on with a snap.

Commander Shepard. Saviour of the Citadel. First Human Spectre. Destroyer of the Collectors. Most of the galaxy was totally in awe of him, seeing him as larger than life, a hero, a champion of sapient life everywhere.

But to her? She sighed, steeling herself as she stepped behind the screen. It was hard to maintain any kind of awe for a man once you knew what he looked like with his pants around his ankles, and you’d had to remove a sex toy that was stuck up his ass.


End file.
